


Benefits and Baggage

by strikeaprose



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Awkward Conversations, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Friends With Benefits, Healthy sex negotiation, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, the mighty nein - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikeaprose/pseuds/strikeaprose
Summary: When a group of people spends a lot of time together, it is almost inevitable that some arrangements of convenience will be made. No commitment, no expectations, just some harmless fun.Attachment, though? That's a monster they never expected to fight.(aka The M9 Boys mess around a lot and awkwardly navigate their feelings with mixed success)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just my excuse to write Molly/Fjord/Caleb in a really gratuitous way with lots of fluff and sex, as well as play around with the fwb-to-lovers scenario. And of course lots of magic, fighting and other fun D&D stuff. Hope you enjoy, and if you dig it please let me know!

The tavern was alight with the bustle of morning activity, almost deafening in its cacophony of conversations and clattering dishes. Smells of ale and breakfast food carried a warmth that fended off the cold that threatened to leak in through the door and windows, where the winter morning lay in wait. It was a cozy, busy place packed with patrons and little table room to spare. Most of this noise and claimed space could be attributed to the Mighty Nein, who had claimed two of the larger round tables and shoved them together to form an awkward yet functional place to eat together. Between them lay plates of food they communally ate from (some with more complaints over sharing than others) and assorted odds and ends of found treasure.

As was their morning ritual, the group discussed plans for the day while eating. Today was slated to be a quiet one; shopping, preparation for the road, and poking around for odd jobs were all on the list. They also bickered over what to do with the small collection they had been assessing over breakfast. The items ranged from semi-precious stones, to little bits of jewelry and baubles, to a bone dagger and an incomplete set of fancy silverware.

“Caleb, is this something you need? Or can I use it for a necklace?” Jester asked, pausing in her scarfing of food to lean across Mollymauk’s space to address the wizard. She reached out her hand with a small clear bead rolling in the palm. An annoyed huff escaped her as she realised he was not listening. “Caleb!”

The human glanced up from the parchment in front of him with a surprised blink, looking to Jester. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, reaching to take the object. “Yes, I would like to keep it, if it’s all the same to you. It could be useful to me.” He looked to the blue tiefling with a small frown, uncertain about taking it for himself.

“Consider it yours,” Mollymauk said, lightly nudging Jester (who was still reaching across his lap) back to her own seat and sending a grin in Caleb’s direction. He also shovelled a little more bacon and eggs onto Caleb’s plate of still-untouched food. “But only if you eat - no just poking at it, either. You’re gonna waste away in the winter.”

“Why don’t you just mama-bird it into his mouth?” Beau quipped across the table, prompting a chorus of laughs and jeers. Caleb, trying to tuck his reddening face into his scarf, was thankful for the distraction of Molly and Beau exchanging curses. He had not meant to ignore his breakfast; he had found himself distracted by the spell scroll laid out next to his plate. Worse, he had been up most of the night working on transcribing, so his attention was not all there to begin with. He pocketed the small bead and rolled up the scroll before popping some bacon into his mouth as discreetly as he could.

Molly was not wrong. The winter was only getting colder, and travel was hard on all of them. Between towns they were going cold and hungry most nights. Caleb was doing all he could with magic to keep them comfortable, but they were all struggling. And he wondered, considering his ostentatious friend’s nagging, if the others noticed the scant few pounds he had lost.

He was oblivious to the conversation having melted back into a uniform hum in his ears as he ate. Eventually, fighting through the fuzz of exhaustion, he focused enough to pick out voices and words amongst the chaos. The group was deciding who would tackle which errand for the day, dividing the tasks with an efficiency they had steadily built over the months of travelling as a unit. By now they could cut it down to only a few minutes of bickering.

“Yasha and I will check out the job board across town. Probably a job or two we can bring back,” Beau suggested, oblivious to the amused glances between some of the others. The barbarian woman nodded in agreement, settling that matter promptly.

“Molly should probably stay here, since the crownsguards are probably still super angry at him,” Jester piped up in a too-loud stage whisper.

“A _couple_ of them are.” Despite the lavender tiefling’s smirk, Caleb felt Mollymauk’s tail flick against the back leg of his chair as it twitched in mild annoyance. “You guys said you wanted a distraction, after all.”

“Yeah, that was one for the history books,” Fjord added with a tone that was almost long-suffering yet hard to place. “I’ll stick close to the inn, maybe check out the blacksmith nearby. M’still feelin’ a little rough after the scuffle yesterday.” The half-orc rubbed at his shoulder unconsciously, where a dark green bruise was still visible across his collarbone and up his neck – where a bandit’s club had knocked him down the previous morning on their way into town. They were all eager to take it easy today, between barely getting into town bloodied and sore and having to escape attention from the authorities because Nott couldn’t resist picking pockets.

Jester leaned across the table, looking at Fjord’s injury as close as she could. “I can try to do some more healing on it!”

“That’s real kind of you Jester, but I’ll be fine.” Fjord waved her off with a shy smile and leaned back in his chair. Instead, the cleric’s attention turned to Caleb.

“Caleb, do you still need expensive paper and ink? We go sell this and find a nice store for your wizard stuff.” She motioned to the assortment of small treasure that she was collecting into a small bag. “Nott should come with us, too!”

Caleb and Nott shared a glance, the latter with more questioning in her eyes. Things were bound to be a little risky after yesterday’s failed pickpocket incident. “Ja, that sounds good,” Caleb replied after a beat before looking back to Nott. “Will you be alright? How is your flask?”

“Still refilling itself.” Nott flipped her hood up and set her mask over her mouth. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I haven’t got the itch right now, I promise.”

“It’s alright. It happens.” Caleb wondered if the others ever got tired of his constant reassurance of their little friend and her habits. After everything she had done for him, he could not be anything but forgiving. He paused to adjust her hood so it covered her long goblin ears a little better. “Let’s go shopping. You need more crossbow bolts, anyhow.”

The team finished their breakfast and got up to leave. Waving them off from the table with a waggle of his decorated fingers, Mollymauk pulled out his cards and began shuffling them; he was likely going to try to scrape up some extra coin with readings.

 

Stepping out of the tavern and into the chilly winter morning was unpleasant enough to wake them up fully. No fresh snow had fallen, but the streets were wet with slush where traffic was high and an icy wind threatened to crawl down their backs with every gust. Watching Beau and Yasha take off together down the street, Caleb shook his head at the subtle skip in the monk’s step and pulled his long coat tighter around himself.

“Do you think they’re in love yet?” Jester asked, grinning from ear to ear. “I bet they’re probably, totally in love. Probably.”

“I doubt that’s the case but it’s a nice thought.” Caleb led the way to where he had seen a pawn shop the day before, Nott following closely and Jester in a meandered path not far behind. Only a few market stalls were open in the winter, making the town feel a little less lively than it would in the warmer months. Yet Jester still managed to get a little distracted along the way by the occasional vendor. And somehow before they made it two blocks, she had them on a search for a bakery. Caleb did not mind, especially as she offered to buy them some sweet rolls that were still warm and quite pleasant to eat as they walked. Nott practically ate hers whole before shoving her mask back over her face.

Eventually they were successful in pawning their assorted goods for a few extra gold. And apparently the shopkeep was a cat person judging by the collection of feline-themed knick-knacks on the shelf behind the counter, so Caleb distracted her with Frumpkin for a moment so Nott could help herself to something. Jester fawned over some pretty jewelry in a glass case, and Caleb caught himself smiling while watching her show Nott the different kinds of gems and how to identify them based on colour.

“But what’s the most valuable?” Nott asked, standing on her tip-toes to look at the glimmering pendants and rings.

Jester thought for a moment. “Diamonds, I think, maybe. But they’re not the prettiest like the sapphire.”

“Caleb can do amazing things with a diamond,” Nott pointed out.

“Yes, but sapphires are prettier and look best on me - because I’m blue and it’s important to match.” She said it so matter-of-factly that there was no sense in arguing. Then Jester gave a soft gasp as she pointed down on a ring with a light amethyst set between a few small red stones. “This one would look so nice on Molly!”

Caleb looked down on the ring, humming in wordless agreement. It was a piece that bordered on gaudy, which was exactly why Molly would look good wearing it. He had a talent for pulling off things that even Caleb knew lacked in taste. It even matched his skin tone and eye colour, and it was surprisingly easy to picture the ring on his finger or horn. “Shall we go? Unless you were looking to buy something?” He could see the temptation in Nott’s eyes grow every second she continued to look at the valuables.

“No, we can go get your paper and stuff. And maybe we can find a book store?” Jester looked at him with an excited little smile. Caleb was a little touched by the suggestion, until he remembered her penchant for rearranging books while peoples’ backs were turned. Still, he could never resist the idea.

“That sounds perfect.”

The problem with that plan hit him when they were steps from the specialty supply store. The wizard stopped mid-stride and felt along the pockets of his coat with increasing haste. His eyes widened fractionally and started over again. “Oh _sheisse,_ ” he muttered, rifling through the small satchel tucked under his coat. Jester and Nott both stopped and regarded him with curious looks.

“What’s wrong Caleb?”

“Something in your coat starting to smell?” Jester’s tone was not even teasing; she seemed to be genuinely asking.

“No, no,” he sighed, shoulders drooping. “I am so sorry. I forgot my gold back in the room.” Internally, he was kicking himself for being so thoughtless, but it could be blamed on him being up so late studying the spell scrolls. His mind had been a haze all morning.

“But you never leave your gold in the room,” Nott pointed out. “Are you sure someone didn’t steal it?” A frantic note began to slip into the goblin’s voice, but Caleb gestured gently for her to stay calm.

“I am sure. When I went downstairs to read last night, I left the gold in our room under the alarm spell.” He looked at the store they were right in front of with a frown. “I am sorry. Why don’t you two keep shopping while I go get my money. If I don’t meet you again out here, I will see you at the inn later, ja?”

“Will you be okay?” Despite Nott’s uncertainty, Jester was already taking her hand.

“Yes. Enjoy yourself, Nott. Try to keep Jester out of trouble.” He smiled to his little friend and gave her an affirming nod to send them off. Jester waved and skipped off with Nott, telling Caleb not to spend all his money on ‘boring wizard paper’ before they vanished into the sparse crowd.

Still chastising himself for his carelessness, Caleb made his way back towards the inn. His memory made it easy to retrace his footsteps, even considering the wandering path they had taken so far. When walking alone it felt a lot colder, and Caleb found himself hyper-aware of his surroundings at all times. He had become so used to having someone – even if it was just Nott – watching his back wherever he went. Being alone now threatened to make his skin crawl with budding anxiety. He walked a little faster than he needed to and looked over his shoulder more than once.

Getting back into the warmth of the tavern was a relief for his nerves as well as the parts of him that were numb from cold. Caleb expected to see a familiar tiefling lounging on one of the chairs by the fire, but was surprised to find no sign of him. Well, it would not be outside of possibility for Mollymauk to get bored and go out anyway. He paused for a moment to warm his fingers by the hearth before heading upstairs. The inn was sizable, three stories high, and the Mighty Nein had rented out a handful of rooms on the top floor. Caleb cursed both this choice and his poor athleticism as he reached the top step, but completed his trudge over to the door to his and Nott’s room.

It was with immense relief that he found his gold still tucked safely in his bag under the bed. He chided himself one last time and put the pouch into one of his coat’s inner pockets where it belonged.

Just as he was standing up from his crouch beside the bed, Caleb heard something that made him freeze on the spot. It was obscured through a wall, but he could swear he heard a shout. Coincidentally, it came through a wall he knew they shared with other members of the group. He stayed perfectly still and held his breath, ears straining in the silence that followed. Before long he caught the muffled sound of another cry. Immediately, Caleb’s mind honed on what he could swear was a note of distress. Ice seeped into his veins from the long-buried memories of hearing screams behind a door.

The wizard gave his head a sharp shake to dislodge the visuals trying to creep into the front of his mind. But his worry overrode reason still, and he left the room as quietly and quickly as possible and approached the neighboring door to set his ear against it. It was hard to tell, but there was movement inside that sounded like a struggle. Caleb silently fished the diamond out of his pocket, his heart thudding in his ears.

“Fuck—Please!” This time the desperate cry was clear, and Caleb felt ill when he recognized Mollymauk’s voice, which was soon followed by a yelp and a sound of a crash.

“Mollymauk!” Caleb called through the door, before muttering the incantation to unlock the door and shouldering through. He spun the diamond in his hand once, ready to summon forth a torrent of flame to protect his friend from whatever was assaulting him.

He was greeted to a sight far different from what he was expecting. On the bed were two figures, one of them indeed the lavender tiefling he could have sworn was being attacked a second ago. But it was not a scene of violence, he soon realized, as he saw Mollymauk and Ford thoroughly entwined in the sheets and with each other. All at once the world seemed to stop with the force of an arrow hitting a target. Caleb was hardly a step into the room when he halted, eyes wide, and clutched the diamond too hard with both hands to stop its spinning.

There was a beat of stunned silence all around, as Molly and Fjord looked to Caleb with dual expressions of shock. Despite Caleb’s previous assumption, there was now no chance of misunderstanding what they were doing. The pair were sprawled almost diagonally across the bed, Mollymauk’s back arching so only his shoulders were on the mattress and his lower half was practically in Fjord’s lap. His legs gripped around the half-orc’s waist and the rest of his scarred, tattooed body was on display from Caleb’s place at the door. Fjord had a bruising grip on Molly’s hips and was sporting scratches on his biceps from long nails. The tielfing’s head was thrown back and his hands gripped whatever part of the bed he could reach. The source of the crash was apparently an unlit lantern knocked off the bedside table, which was now shattered and slowly leaked oil into the floorboards. They were both winded, struggling to let their brains catch up to the fact that they had been walked in on.

“Shit, I-“ Caleb stammered, barely able to find his voice. “I thought-“

Fjord was the first of them to finally snap out of the shock. He leaned over Mollymauk almost protectively, grabbing blindly for a sheet. “What are you doing? Get outta here, Caleb!” There was more disbelief than anger in his tone, but it was enough to unroot Caleb’s feet from the floor. The wizard spouted about four different apologies in Zemnian and Common before stumbling out the door and slamming it shut.

His heart in his throat and his face redder than it may have ever been in its life, he retreated back down the steps and left the inn as quickly as his legs could carry him. It was not until he was halfway through town, carried in a random direction by only his need to get far away from the situation, that it fully sank in what he had just witnessed.

He had just committed the worst faux pas of travelling with companions. With misunderstanding, yes, but the fact still stood. Caleb had just barged in on Fjord and Molly having sex, and he felt like singlehandedly unravelling the fabrics of reality was more likely than him ever being able to look either of them in the eye ever again.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Mollymauk and Fjord ended up in this whole predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is being updated! Only... six months late. 
> 
> To be honest, the wind got taken out of my sails after episode 26. Not shocking. But I think I'm ready to continue this story and take it in a direction that can diverge from the canon and keep things going.
> 
> And, since this story started before the Labenda Swamp business, I have to shoehorn in a random town that the M9 is staying in between Zadash and there. From here, I plan to play more along the lines to the plot. The POV will jump between characters every chapter, so for those who liked Caleb-centric writing can look forward to more of it very soon!
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a flashback, leading up to the last moments in chapter one. Hopefully that's not overly complicated. I wanted to thank everyone who left a comment and kudos! I'm bringing this back for you guys <3

It started out innocently enough. Well, as innocent as it could be, given where they ended up. Sharing rooms forced a certain amount of personal intimacy that cumulated slowly over time into a mutual sense of familiarity. What developed between Mollymauk and Fjord from there was something of a beneficial arrangement for both parties.

For his part, the tiefling was interested from day one. The entire group that he had been stuck with at a strange inn all had some aspects of interest about them, yet Fjord caught his eye just a little more. A handsome half-orc with a charming accent and an air of general charisma and mystery about him? Consider Mollymauk intrigued. And, in his defense, the way Fjord quickly offered to share his room sounded like an obvious opening.

When they had retired to the room that first night, a few ales deep and tired from the evening’s battle at the carnival, Molly was eager for a distraction. His world was upside down; he was away from his troupe, trapped in a small town and lumped together with this collection of people who barely knew each other. All he wanted was to not think about it for a little while, to maybe occupy his mind until he was too exhausted to think.

“You didn’t tell me your room had only one bed,” he had said as they walked into Fjord’s room, unable to even pretend to sound disappointed. Regardless, he was already shedding his coat. Fjord shrugged.

“Yeah, well, didn’t really expect company. You can have the bed. I’ll be okay with the floor.”

“Nonsense,” Mollymauk took a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and give the other a pointed stare – while Fjord entirely missed his little attempt at subtlety because he was already laying out a bedroll. The tiefling fought an amused smirk. “I’m not opposed to sharing,” he tried again.

“Nah, don’t worry. The bed isn’t much better anyway, to be honest.” Bless him, Fjord was oblivious. No outright rejection, which Mollymauk would have preferred to this (admittedly endearing) lack of understanding. There was not even an air of discomfort or an attempt at indirect rejection. The poor bastard just had no idea that he was so damn attractive. Molly let it be, figuring that it was best to not go out of his way to complicate things. If Fjord had any interest later on, that would be a bonus. For now, he was just happy to have somewhere to sleep.

They continued with the arrangement as the group began travelling together. On the road everyone slept around a fire or in the cart, taking turns on watch in pairs with at least one good set of eyes watching the darkness. Mollymauk was no stranger to travel, though he had before enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in covered wagons, and he had to admit that at times he missed the warm body of Yasha that he could freely huddle up with on cold evenings. When they had the luxury of staying at an inn, Molly and Fjord consistently defaulted to sharing a room. It seemed to make the most sense, when Jester and Beau roomed together and paranoia kept Caleb and Nott locked in the habit of keeping to themselves.

Fjord was an excellent roommate. Infuriatingly polite, but perfectly tolerable to share a space with. For his part, Molly knew he must have been a nightmare. He spread his presence out as much as he could in their temporary lodgings, and had little care of his state of dress (or undress) when they were both in the room. Some small part of him enjoyed the way Fjord’s cheekbones would flush darker green and how he pointedly averted his gaze as Molly would get undressed in front of him. The tiefling purposely looked for signs of a boundary pushed too far. When he found none, he simply allowed himself to enjoy the sport of flustering Fjord.

There was a clear change after arriving in Zadash. While hard to pinpoint, sometime between the bathhouse and their stay in the Pillow Trove (and Molly’s excellent night with hired company) there was a shift in Fjord. For a while now the half-orc had grown used to his roommate’s antics; he was simply resigned to minding his own business and keeping to his side of the room. And Mollymauk would not claim to be the most insightful person in the world, but he sensed that his friend had veered back into getting easily embarrassed.

The first hint came one day as Fjord flushed from hairline to shoulder after walking into their shared room to see Molly stretched out on one of the beds, half-undressed but still decent. The tiefling had some of his jewellery taken off and had begun giving them a polish to get out the grime. From his position, on his side and propped up on an elbow, he saw Fjord falter at the door.

“Everything alright?” Molly asked with a cocked eyebrow, even as his eyes went back to his work. He heard the floorboards creak as Fjord shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah,” Fjord replied around clearing his throat awkwardly. He moved to his own bed and fished through his bag. “I just, uh, don’t think I’ve seen you without all the… baubles an’ such.” He gestured one hand vaguely around his own head. 

Mollymauk grinned, glancing up. “Don’t worry, I’m still wearing most of my jewellery. Just not where you can see.” 

Again, that lovely shade of dark green was his reward. Molly’s tail gave a satisfied flick as he watched Fjord search through his belongings with more focus than necessarily required. The warlock seemed to find the things he needed and retreated hastily, closing the door a little too hard on the way out. Molly might have been concerned if he hadn’t heard the slightly regretful “Shit,” muttered on the other side. Still, he furrowed his brow and made a mental note to hound the other later to see if he was okay.

And he would have, if he felt like such a question was welcome. Fjord was becoming oddly evasive. It was all Mollymauk could do to get him to meet his eyes when they spoke, or to even speak to him at all. He was not sure if the others had noticed this sudden change, but he prayed to the Moonweaver that they would also miss how annoyed and hurt it made Mollymauk feel. He could handle people not liking him or not wanting to talk to him. Such a choice was frankly their loss. Just as it was Fjord’s. Yet, Molly was keenly aware of how he probably engineered this rift between them himself, and most of his frustration was directed at himself and their strange lack of communication. So, he did the best thing he could; he gave Fjord space.

He stayed in the girls’ room a couple of nights to give Fjord some breathing room. Yasha being there was a nice plus, as that came with and extra feeling of comfort. It was oddly nice chatting with them, sharing stories and even giving Jester a few card readings for fun. He even dialed back the snark war with Beauregard and brought a bottle of wine to share as a peace offering – temporary of course.

Yet, for all his effort, Molly could not avoid getting at least a few questions from Jester. She was sharper than she let on, under all the cuteness and childish wonder.

“Hey Molly, is Fjord okay?” she asked as she sat on a pillow behind the other tiefling, weaving flowers into his hair. “He’s been so quiet lately. And you haven’t spent a lot of time in your room.”

Molly winced, both from the inquiry and her fingers tugging at a lock of hair too hard. “Ah, think he’s been feeling under the weather,” he lied, accustomed to spinning bullshit on a whim. “You know, between being in strange places and the hard fights and the weather changing. Takes a toll on some people.”

“Dunno about sick, but he’s been kind of a dick lately,” Beau quipped from across the room, where she had retreated to avoid becoming victim to Jester’s makeovers.

“More than you?” Molly shot back, barely biting down the odd defensive feeling that bubbled up in him. Why should he defend him? Maybe Fjord _was_ just being a dick.

“Fuck you, Molly.” Beau took a swig from the wine bottle he had brought up before handing it to Yasha. “He’s just been super snippy. You do anything to piss him off?”

“Probably,” Mollymauk did his best to laugh it off in his usual irreverent manner, but in the back of his head there was a relentless gnawing of guilt. He tried not to ruminate too hard on that as Jester chattered on excitedly about a plan to get Fjord something to make him feel better, weaving ribbons around Molly’s horns in the meantime.

As the Mighty Nein concluded their business in Zadash and eventually moved Northeast, Molly both lamented the loss of warm rooms and felt relief at not having to share one with someone he made uncomfortable. He complained as little as possible, and everyone did their best to make travelling in the cold less miserable. They huddled together in the cart under blankets at night or during cold days, and Caleb kept the camps warm with a hearty fire. For much of it Fjord was still distant from Molly, but seemed just fine with the rest of the group.

Some part of Mollymauk was indignant about the whole matter. A little hint of _“well fuck you, too_ ” under the still-present guilt. It helped for a while.

But by the fourth cold, miserable day of Fjord barely saying more than a word to him, the last thread of patience in him snapped. “Fjord and I will take first watch,” he volunteered a little firmly as they set up camp that night. While the half-orc looked at him, confused, everyone else seemed to accept it without much fuss. The group was tired and desperate for sleep after so much slogging in the rain and frost. After dinner, as the others went to sleep, Molly settled in front of the fire with his big Platinum Dragon tapestry wrapped around him. He looked at Fjord and extended one arm up to offer him a side of the big sheet.

“Cuddle up, we're gonna have a little chat.” He spoke quietly to not be heard by the others. Still, his tone left no room for discussion.

The look on Fjord’s face was akin to a cornered rabbit as he stood there, motioning between himself and Molly dumbly. “We… _we_ are?”

“Yes, Fjord. And I’d rather talk to you while your teeth aren’t chattering from the cold. Come on.”

Perhaps Fjord had never heard Mollymauk speak so assertively, because he looked a little stunned. But eventually he shuffled over to sit on the log beside him and allowed the tiefling to drape one side of the tapestry over him. He sat as tense as stone. The threat of a long, awkward silence hung over them, so Molly figured he would show mercy and speak up first.

“You’ve been avoiding me like the plague,” he began. I was in no mood for tiptoeing around the issue. Fjord opened his mouth, but Molly silenced him with one raised finger poking out from his grip on the tapestry. “No sense in denying it, now. And I would very much like to know if this is simply a matter of you not liking me, or if I did something to upset you. Because if I learned one thing at the carnival, it’s that you can have an issue with someone, but if you’re travelling with them you have to be a gods-damned adult about it.”

He surprised himself a little with the words that spilled out of his mouth. Like a valve releasing pressure he did not even know was there until the relief was felt. And admittedly, it was quite as relief, at that. Looking from the fire to Fjord, he caught a half-shadowed expression of pulled-together brows and a slightly agape mouth. A look of shock – and a hint of hurt. That part took some of the wind out of his righteous sails. Molly kept his mouth shut, letting his words soak in. Next to him, Fjord shifted a little and stared down at nothing. He made some attempts at saying something, each one aborted before he could even make a sound.

Molly waited.

And waited.

Until Fjord deflated next to him and dragged his hands over his face.

“Molls,” he breathed out, sounding exhausted. He had never called Mollymauk that before, and hearing it injected warmth into his chest as if he had just done a shot of whiskey. “I ain’t got an issue with you. Never have. It’s just been… awkward. For me.”

Molly tried to keep his determination intact while Fjord looked so worn down beside him. So much more than what the weather and travel could have done to him. He swallowed thickly. “I made you uncomfortable, didn’t I? With, you know, being me.”

“Nah, it’s more-“ Fjord paused, seeming to hesitate. He glanced back towards the cart, where at least two sets of snores were already audible. Turning to look at Molly again, his striking yellow eyes took a second to meet the tiefling’s red ones. “I’m used to rooming close to folks and the whole… oversharing thing. I think I’m just not used to, well, someone of your…” he seemed to scramble for words, defaulting back to using inoffensive, diplomatic language.

“Hey, we’re both familiar with handing out bullshit,” Molly said with a quirk of his lip, trying to be encouraging through his straightforwardness. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

A heavy sigh, and Fjord’s eyes evaded Molly’s gaze again. “Alright, you asked for it.” The half-orc gave a defeated huff of laughter. “I’m really attracted to you, Molls. I dunno if I know you well enough for it to be, y’know, a romantic thing. But I’ve been feeling guilty about every time I see you naked or you make those jokes and… gods help me, my mind goes places.”

For the first time in what felt like - gods, far too long - Molly could see the darkening green blush on Fjord’s face. It was plain even in the dark. It took a moment for him to realise that _he_ was now the one stunned into silence.

“Oh,” was all he managed to get out, muttering dumbly around his suddenly dry mouth. Fjord looked to him, eyes searching and brimming with anxiety, and Molly felt his heart double in pace. “I didn't expect that. Usually I pick up on those things, but after getting rebuffed-“

“What? When?” Fjord interrupted. Molly chuckled with sudden relief that felt like he was hitting a high. Lifting a hand, he traced Fjord’s handsome jaw with a nail and grinned. Whatever personal fears or tension in them drifted away as Fjord leaned into the touch. Lithe fingers brushed over his cheek and cupped it. 

“I put out signals for weeks and you were too modest to realise it. So I backed off. Looks like we completely cocked this up, huh?” Mollymauk should not have been laughing, but their stupidity was too amusing not to. Luckily Fjord laughed with him, and they shared a moment of lighthearted chastising themselves before meeting in the middle.

All at once, the lingering remnants of uncertainty gave way to a mutual determination. It barely took a moment before their kiss grew heated, hungry and rough. Molly delighted in how Fjord pushed back against him, prying into his mouth greedily as weeks of sexual tension crashed back on them both at once. Neither of them cared about some awkward clacking of teeth as they found their rhythm and lost their breath.

A rush of cold hit Mollymauk’s skin as Fjord pulled him closer and dislodged the tapestry a little. He laughed into the half-orc’s mouth and allowed himself to be pulled flush against him. Hands roved down his sides while his own slipped up under Fjord’s shirt. It seemed a tragedy that they had denied themselves this for as long as they did; Molly wished he had a comfortable bed to shove the other onto. The thought of Fjord stretched out on the silk sheets in the Pillow Trove was an even better fantasy now that Molly knew what it was like to kiss him.

Suddenly, Fjord pulled back from the kiss. “Are you purring? Or growling?” he asked breathlessly, brow pulled together in mild confusion. Mollymauk had not noticed the rumble deep in his chest until that moment. Oh boy. It had been a while since he did that.

“Trust me, it’s a good sound,” he said before getting to his feet and pulling his friend up with him to stumble a few yards further away from the cart. He expected some hesitation, but Fjord was eager.

The watch was left very much unmanned as the two of them were half-hidden in the tall dried grass, laughing quietly as they lay tangled in the tapestry. There was no time or convenience for a proper fuck, so they kissed until their mouths felt raw and pawed at each other over their trousers. It might have been somewhat awkward logistically, but Molly believed that nothing could be better than the feeling of Fjord biting down on his neck to muffle his moans as they made a proper mess of themselves.

Bone-tired and satisfied, they barely got back to their watch in time to switch off with a sleepy-eyed Jester and Nott. Luckily their rendezvous seemed to go unnoticed. Some stealthy cleaning had to be done, but as they joined the rest of the sleeping Nein in the cart, they fell into the best sleep either of them had in weeks.

Being on the road did not allow them time to talk about this extensively in private. There was always someone within earshot, always something to be done. There was a sort-of understanding that this was a thing between two friends who found each other attractive, maintained by what short conversations they could eke out. Mollymauk was quite pleased with that – whatever came of this, they would deal with it in time. For the moment they just needed to survive bandits, shitty weather and group arguments until they got to the next town.

The arrival to said town involved a very long, stressful day including an ambush in the morning, a broken wheel at noon, and Nott alerting some guards to her pickpocketing habit in the evening. The Mighty Nein could not be happier to get to the closest inn and crash into their beds without even eating dinner. As usual, Molly and Fjord shared a room.

“Are we sharing a bed?” Molly asked as they faced the usual predicament – this time with a new layer to their status as roommates.

“Yeah,” Fjord grumbled, shuffling to the bedside and stripping off his shirt to check the bruise on his shoulder. “Sounds like a given by now.”

Molly tried not to ogle too openly. The poor guy had taken a club to the clavicle that morning, after all. “It probably is. But maybe we should- well,” He was exhausted and struggling for words. With a sigh, the tiefling at on the bed to unlace his boots. “I’m a fan of keeping open communication. We should clear the air on what we’re doing.”

There was a tired hum of agreement from Fjord. “Can it wait until tomorrow? Everyone’s gonna be runnin’ errands and such. Let’s just take it easy and figure things out.”

“Deal.” A pause, in which Molly smiled and looked back at his friend. “You do remember I sleep naked, right?”

“I was kinda hopin’ you still would.” The warlock grinned back at him.

It was nice, sleeping in a decent bed and cuddled up with another warm body. Whatever agreement they came to in the morning, Molly was content to let it happen. Complicating things was not his style. Some fun between two adults did not need to be a whole big deal, right?

Nerves only started to get a hold on Molly at breakfast. The Nein bickered over plans for the day while splitting up some of their gains. And as he and Fjord tried to subtly maneuver excuses to stay in for the morning, they caught each other’s eyes several times. The tiefling wished he could say his heart jumped every time it happened – but the sensation was a fair bit more south than that.

He beat Fjord back upstairs after the meal, but the half-orc was not far behind, practically thundering up the steps. As soon as the door shut behind them there was a stalemate. Both just looked at each other, becoming increasingly aware that they lacked the willpower to spend this rare moment of privacy on conversation.

“I’m down to talk in like twenty minutes, if you are.” Molly suggested, wetting his lips.

Fjord was looking at him like a starved man in front of a buffet. “Give me an hour,” he growled before crossing the room and yanking the lavender tiefling into a bruising kiss.

If their tryst in the cold grass was like a firework, this was like a full-fledged bomb. The two of them stumbled back into bed and stripped with zero care for popped buttons or ripped seams. There was a half-playful, half-earnest battle to get on top of the other, and Mollymauk proved too quick and nimble to be held down easily. He straddled Fjord, smug as can be and rolling his hips until the half-orc was a gasping mess under him. Getting to see his very, very attractive friend splayed out on a bed and drunk with lust was every bit as perfect as he had imagined.

“Molls,” Fjord moaned, sending a spike of something sinful up the length of the tiefling’s spine. “You’re gonna kill me.” He did not sound much like a dying man.

“Not before I’m done with you,” Molly purred back, before giving a yelp as he was flipped over by a sudden surge of strength from Fjord. They bounced a little on the mattress, and Fjord reached blindly for his bag while pinning him down. There was some fumbling before he produced a vial of some unknown oil.

“Bought it yesterday,” the half-orc explained breathlessly, though his pleased grin faltered for a second. “Is it… can I-“

“Gods, yes.” Molly yanked Fjord back down for another kiss, so very grateful for the foresight.

Prep was quick, spurred on my Mollymauk’s squirming and demanding. Fjord had to hold him down as he worked a third finger into him. “You’re so needy,” he chided, his low drawl heavy with want. “To think I spent all this time not takin’ proper care of you,”

Molly was clawing marks in Fjord’s arms, trying not to openly keen as the fingers scissored inside him. Truthfully, it _had_ been too long since someone had treated him to this. So maybe he was a little eager. But if Fjord kept talking like that, he was going to make an embarrassingly short show of this whole thing. After what felt like an age of being teased, Molly felt Fjord’s fingers withdraw. He locked his legs around Fjord’s hips and heard a fond chuckle.

“I got ya." 

In the end all that prep was for the best, because Fjord was well above average in size. Molly distracted himself from the initial stretch by kissing and biting the other’s lips; it had, after all, been a while. That was a tragedy, really, but he was grateful to have a partner more patient than himself.

The first experimental rock of hips had them both seeing stars. Both of them gasped into the kiss, and a long string of curses left Mollymauk as Fjord did it again. And again. And again, until a steady rhythm of hard thrusts built up between them. Pleasure took over where the ache initially was, and Molly let out a loud, shameless moan.

“Hey, let’s not let the whole block know, huh?” Fjord laughed, biting at the tiefling’s neck.

“I hope they hear,” Molly uttered between breathy sounds, clawing his friend’s shoulders.

“You’re the worst.” Giving him one more bite, Fjord leaned his weight into his knees and gripped Mollymauk’s hips. The leverage gave him a better angle to thrust, and he openly admired the lithe, scarred and tattooed body spread out before him. Molly’s tail lashed against the sheets as he shouted his delight and demand for Fjord to not stop.

They found themselves moving up the bed just from the force of how hard Fjord pumped into Molly. At one point there was a crash as Molly reached up to grab a corner of the bed, but neither of them cared to look what was knocked over. Nothing could possibly register outside of what they were doing and how fucking amazing it felt.

Nothing, except for maybe a familiar wizard crashing through the door with a readied spell flickering in his hand.

The blinding momentum stopped so suddenly that it took the wind out of Mollymauk. From where he was, sprawled diagonally on the bed, he saw the upside-down view of a stunned Caleb. Before his own brain could catch up with the situation, Fjord was shouting at their friend to leave and scrambling to cover them both up.

“Shit. Shit. Fuckin’ _shit_.” Fjord hissed as the door slammed shut. Molly grunted in discomfort at the feeling of Fjord pulling out of him unexpectedly. Despite them being alone again, Fjord was still trying to cover Molly up. “You alright? Fuck, I swear we locked the door.”

“I’m fine,” Molly insisted, brushing off the sheet and sitting up a bit. The dawning horror of being walked in on was not so terrible for him as it seemingly was for the half-orc. “Are _you_ okay?”

Still breathless, Fjord sat back and ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “Uh, I don’t know. That was… probably bad.”

Molly heaved a sigh and flopped back down on the bed. Great. The biggest cockblock in history, and it came packaged with possibly traumatizing their wizard. “Can we please unpack that later? I’m dying right now.” As Fjord looked at him with concern, Molly gestured lazily up and down his own body. “Pretty sure I was just denied the best orgasm of my life.”

A sudden, shocked laugh escaped Fjord that finally put a crack in the tension. The warlock seemed to consider his options, perhaps some questions of morality, before reaching out to brush Molly’s hip with his fingers. The touch was gentle, but still sent shocks over his skin. “Yeah, we can give him a few minutes. I’m not much better off than you are.”

“Thank the Moonweaver.” Molly took a hold of Fjord’s hand and pulled him back down over him, stealing a little nibble on his lips. “Because you’re giving me the rest of that hour, sailor.”


End file.
